A Mother For Neverland
by AerinBrown
Summary: Despite his best attempts to pretend otherwise, Peter is growing up. And when he notices that something is not right with Neverland, what better remedy than a new mother? Can a lonely girl on the brink of womanhood set things right?
1. Prologue

A/N: I've become obsessed with Peter Pan. However, I also enjoy a good romance. And in my opinion, twelve is just too young to have a good romance. So, to satisfy my own imagination, I am tweeking, well, everything to fit whatever pops into my head.

Story will contain bits of movie, book, and whatever else I wish it to contain. After all, anything can happen in Neverland, right?

**********

Prologue

"But the Prince could not bear to part from his little love again, so he carried her back to the palace in his grand coach, and they were married that very day."

It was the story of Cinderella, a favorite of the two little girls who resided on floor four of tenement building number eight. How eagerly they listened as their mother read them the familiar tale, but they weren't the only ones. Through the open window, a friendly breeze carried the story up, up, to the tenth floor, where another pair of ears caught every word. 

"So the poor little cinder maid married the Prince, and in time they came to be King and Queen, and lived happily ever after."

__

Happily Ever After. It was an end she had once prayed most fervently to have, but now wished for only in the deepest, most secret recesses of her heart. Happily-ever-afters belonged only in fairy tales. 

Down below, the young mother sang a pretty lullaby as she tucked her babies into bed.

But there were no lullabies for her. Instead of loving hands and sweet kisses, a sharp voice cut through the thin walls of their tiny apartment. "Anne, you had better be in bed!" It was a voice that brooked no argument, and very seldom received one. It was the voice of a woman who did not believe in love and abhorred children.

"Yes, Aunt Maddy!" 

"I'm coming to look! If you aren't in bed...!" The threat was left hanging, to make it more ominous, perhaps, but really because Aunt Maddy wasn't creative enough to think of a suitable punishment. Anne ignored her. Crotchety Great-Aunt Maddy would never check, because she was old and lazy and checking up on her charge would mean she cared.

Seated on the wide window frame, Anne leaned her head against the sill and watched. There was something different about tonight, something quiet and exciting. No dogs howled, no cats cried, and high above the stars were twinkling brightly in anticipation. A breeze slipped through the window to playfully ruffle her short cap of dark curls and whisper that something was coming.


	2. Peter Pan

A/N: Wow, two reviews already! I barely had the prologue up! I had problems with this chapter. I started writing, and then kept writing and writing and couldn't figure out how to wrap it up. Which means that this chapter is rather confusing and I can't quite figure out the point of most of it yet. 

*performs an ecstatic dance* It worked! It worked! Eeee!! I'm so happy. It's actually in readable format now (as opposed to being all squashed into one big paragraph as it was the past six times I uploaded this chapter) 

BrandedButterfly: I thought the movie was magnificent, and better than the version of the book that I read, anyway. And….Yeah. 

Willow Edra: Silver things? But thank you! 

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If Anne had happened to be looking up instead of out, she would have seen a strange sight indeed. For high above her, a slim figure was hopping casually atop the roof's narrow rain gutter. Flitting round about him was a bright light, no longer than your hand. 

"Good story, eh Tink?" Peter asked softly, making an extra high jump in delight. The loveliest tinkle as of golden bells answered him. Tink said that it was, for she liked happy endings. Peter nodded; it was a good story, even if there wasn't as much gutting and sword fighting as he would have liked. 

With another skip, Peter was preparing to launch himself off the roof when a quick chiming of bells stopped him. 

"Wait? Why? The stories are done for the night, Tink. We must go home and tell the boys!" 

The tiny fairy dashed at the boy's tousled head and angrily tugged a lock, scolding him impatiently. She was reminding him that he hadn't just come for the stories tonight. Peter often needed to be reminded of things. 

"Alright, alright. I'll look." Moving obediently, Peter dropped on his stomach to peer over the edge of the shingled roof. "There's an awful lot of open windows, Tink," he observed, kicking his feet energetically. "Won't you help me pick?" 

At this, Tinker Bell snorted rather indelicately and drifted down to the roof. Settling herself on a shingle, she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. Already she regretted reminding Peter of his mission. 

"Fine, be that way!" Peter retorted cheerfully, not in the least bit offended. He returned to his search. 

Fifteen minutes later, soft snores could be heard from the tiny fairy who had ceased to be merely pretending sleep on the shingle. Peter had grown bored with searching and was alternately opening and closing each eye when the breeze, tired of waiting for him, brushed past. "Down, look down!" it whispered. 

Knowing better than to discard the advice of a friendly breeze, Peter hung his head over the roof's edge. Most of the windows were closed, and dark, but four floors down an open one caught his eye. To make sure it was the right one, he squinted at it.

"I've found her! I've found her! Oh, the cleverness of me!" he chuckled gleefully, springing to his feet to conduct a rather wild victory dance. "Tink!" he cried softly, bouncing over to the fairy and nudging her awake. "I've found her!" Tinker Bell crossly opened one eye and glared at him. Unaffected, Peter snatched the tiny woman up and dove off the roof. 

On floor ten, Anne dozed on her seat at the window sill. A swift breeze brushed past her face, smelling of dirt and trees and warmth. She breathed in deeply without opening her eyes, imagining herself to be far away from the smog filled city. 

"If you sleep on the windowsill, Lady, you might fall out." The warm voice at her ear was so sudden that it startled Anne into almost tumbling out the window. But a strong hand caught her arm before she had a chance to even scream and pulled her to her feet. Breathing deeply, Anne opened her eyes. 

It was a boy, dressed in leaves, with a tanned body badly in need of a bath and tousled ginger hair. He stood with two feet planted strongly shoulder-width apart and hands placed cockily on his hips. 

"What…?" Oddly, she was not alarmed to see a stranger standing in the middle of her tiny room; she was only momentarily startled. 

He grinned at her, pearly white teeth gleaming. He was familiar somehow. 

Being an exceedingly polite boy when he wished to be, Peter bowed to her beautifully. Anne clumsily bobbed back at him, not having had the opportunity to learn things such as curtsies. 

"What is your name?" he asked. 

"Anne Hailey Elizabeth Roberts," she replied automatically. "What's yours?" 

"Peter Pan," he replied with some satisfaction. 

Anne's mouth gaped open and shut, sadly reducing her appearance to resemble that of fish. "You're not Peter Pan!" she gasped finally. 

Peter frowned, offended. Surely he knew who he was. "I am too," he said stiffly, folding his arms at his chest. 

"But…you're tall!" Anne eyed the boy in front of her and calculated that he was a good three inches taller than she was. 

"I am not!" Peter retorted hotly, bouncing backward. "You're short." 

Anne tilted her head. "Can you fly?" 

Peter laughed at such a ridiculous question. "Of course!" he cried. With a smug look on his face, he shot upward and stood on the ceiling. "How else would I have gotten in!" 

Anne was quite convinced. Still, there was something off about the boy who was currently hanging upside down in front of her. He didn't seem to look quite as boyish as she had imagined him to be. 

She asked how old he was. 

"I don't know," he replied uneasily, turning right side up again and hovering just above the rug, "but I am quite young." 

"Why!" Anne declared, "You look just my age, and I've just had my sixteenth birthday." 

Peter shrugged. It suddenly struck him that Tinker Bell was keeping very quiet. "I can't think where she's gone to," he said, spinning in slow circles. 

"Who?" 

"Tinker Bell," Peter said matter-of-factly, peeking under Anne's bed. 

"Your fairy?!" Anne's heart went flutter with a sudden thrill as she realized what he was talking about. She _had_ read the stories, after all. 

"Not _my_ fairy." His voice was muffled as he searched through Anne's closet. There was a sudden clang of angry bells. Peter came out of the closet. "Don't be angry with me, Tink," he said, sneaking up on the bookcase, "You know you can't be my fairy, because I am an gentleman and you are a lady." 

"Peter," Anne whispered, watching him drop to his knees in front of her shelves, "you don't mean to tell me that there is a fairy in this room!" 

Peter told her that there was and motioned for her to be quiet. He sat unmoving for a brief second before lunging. Books flew up haphazardly as Peter wrestled with a tiny figure. Finally he straightened and triumphantly held out his fist. Glowering in his grasp was the tiny Tinker Bell. 

Anne was enchanted. ""O the lovely!" she cried. Tinker Bell insolently stuck her tongue out in response. 

"She is quite a common fairy," Peter explained apologetically, "she is called Tinker Bell because she mends the pots and kettles." 

"Oh, do let her go Peter. She's angry." 

"Aw, she's always angry." But he let her go anyway, and the tiny woman shrieked in fury and dove under the bed. 

Anne watched her go, then turned to Peter. "Why are you here?" she asked curiously. 

Peter made a puppet figure in the pale light. "To fetch you." 

"Me?" 

Another figure began chasing the first across the wall. "Yes. To be our mother." 

"Oh." 

The two shadows clashed together in terrible swordplay. 

"Do you need a mother, Peter?" 

Peter made a face. Not only had he no need of a mother, but he had not the slightest desire to have one. He thought them very over-rated persons. "No. But the Lost Boys wish one." 

"Oh." 

Figure number two stabbed the first shadow figure and joined Peter in a triumphant dance about the room. From the corner came a furious flash of light and tinkling of bells. Peter translated, still bouncing about the room. "Tink says you don't have to come if you don't want. She doesn't care if you don't, but she says that you're too old to come to Neverland." 

"Oh!" 

Peter left off his dancing and began to perform summersaults in the air. Over and over he rolled. "She's wrong of course," he said smugly. "You can come if you wish it." His tumbling came to an abrupt stop. "You do wish to come, don't you Anne?" 

His face was so eagerly pleading that Anne couldn't help but say yes. 

"Then it's settled!" Peter laughed delightedly. He shot toward the window, grabbing her hand on the way and pulling her along. 

"Oh, but Peter!" Anne gasped, clutching the window frame. "I can't fly!" 

He stopped and looked down at her. "No?" 

"No." 

"Then I'll teach you!" he crowed and held out a hand. "Come here, Tink!" Tinker Bell flew sulkily from her corner and perched on Peter's palm, where the boy frowned at her. Muttering angrily, the fairy stomped her foot against his hand before withdrawing to the corner again. 

"Now, just think of lovely wonderful thoughts," Peter explained, grinning warmly. His hand rose to his mouth and softly he blew a cloud of sparkling dust at her. 

His smile was a lovely thought all on its own, Anne thought, closing her eyes. But just in case it wasn't enough, she thought of other happy things. Of leaving her aunt. Of having adventures. Of _flying_. 

"Open your eyes," Peter whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. Obediently, her eyes opened, and Anne found herself feet off of the ground. She was so excited that she shot up another foot and hit her head on the ceiling. 

Anne spun about in happiness until Peter's sparkling eyes caught hers. "Come with me?" he asked. 

She bit her lip, drifting slowly to the floor. "Come where?" 

"Second to the right," said Peter, pointing to the stars, "and then straight on till morning." It was a beautiful address. So far away from her Aunt Maddy's wickedness. 

"Oh," she breathed. "Is it pretty there, Peter?" 

"Pretty," he agreed. "And there are mermaids." 

"Mermaids!" 

"And you shall be our only lady, Anne. Neverland needs a lady." 

"Neverland…" 

Peter took her hand in his and led her to the window. 

* * * * *

And crotchety old Great-Aunt Maddy, who had fallen asleep in her chair before she even got a chance to check if Anne was in bed, didn't realize that Anne was gone until late the next morning when she didn't get any breakfast. The old biddy was so relieved to be free of the child that she neglected to call the police and promptly hired a maid in Anne's place. 


	3. Nearing Neverland

A/N:  Ehehe!  I finally got the formatting to work on the last chapter!  No more giant paragraph.  Dance with me.

Anyway.

Flounder2:  Thank you for reading!  I feel so honored to be on your favorites list!

WillowEdra:  Thanks for checking back for chapter 2.  Hopefully it will be easier to read this time around!

Angel 285:  She is horrid, isn't she?  I tried.  

* * * * * * *

They flew for hours and hours.  Days and days, even, maybe, though Anne couldn't tell.  Over the clouds they flew, and soon Anne's whole world became flying.  She forgot all about walking.  Sometimes Peter would hold her hand and pull her along, or sometimes he would swoop down below the clouds and leave Anne alone. After awhile he would come back to her with a smile that said "I've just seen something wonderful that you haven't" and would look at Anne as if he couldn't quite remember who she was.  Then he would grin and say 'Anne' and take her hand again.

She didn't like it when he left.  It seemed to her as if there was always a possibility with Peter that he would forget all about her and leave her behind.

"Peter, are we almost there yet?" she asked once.  

He turned on his back to look at her and flew backwards.  "Do you wish to be there now?"  Anne said she did and Peter asked why.

"Oh, I _am_ tired."

He tried to teach her to sleep in the air without falling, as he could, by merely lying on her back and floating, but Anne couldn't do it.  Every time she tried, down she fell, and Peter would have to catch her.

So Anne made do and pretended to not need sleep.  After all, Peter didn't seem tired in the least bit, and if he could do it, why, she could too.  Sometimes she forgot that she wasn't sleepy though and popped off, and Peter would have to catch her again.

Sometimes when Anne got bored or curious she would ask Peter questions.  

"Peter, what do I _do as a mother?"  _

"Oh, tell stories, give the boys medicine, tell them to wash behind their ears and such."

She thought it over.  "But Peter, will I have to sew and clean and cook?  
Peter looked at her oddly as he flew beside her.  "Don't you _want to sew and_

clean and cook, Anne?"

"Well, maybe sometimes Peter, but not always.  I wish to have adventures, of course."

So with a relatively smooth journey they drew near the Neverland.

* * * *

A/N:  That was horribly short, and I'm so sorry!  It's just that I'm having problems with getting them to Neverland.  I promise more for next time.


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